


the ownership of injustice

by lonelyghosts



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Elf Culture & Customs, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Mage Abuse and Oppression, Orlais Bashing, Vivienne positive, all origins are true, dalish positivity, she means well she just doesnt know a lot about elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-24 10:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyghosts/pseuds/lonelyghosts
Summary: Vivienne does not know about the Elvhen ways about magic. Lavellan, in her own way, tries her best to make her understand.





	the ownership of injustice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dalishious (kispesan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kispesan/gifts).



> i came across the shit about the dalish tossing out their mages and i went "what the fuck??? what the FUCK??" so this is a fix it for that
> 
> this is not an anti-vivienne fic! i love vivienne, but, like origins!leliana, she doesn't fully understand the extent of elvhen oppression, so she says some ignorant stuff sometimes. hell, the reason my lavellan feels free to call her out is because she feels safe around vivienne, and because vivienne has made it clear that she cares about lavellan's thoughts.

Lavellan stared at Vivienne with a look of barely concealed rage, and Vivienne sighed. It truly hadn't been her intention to upset the Inquisitor, but she assumed that, being the First, Lavellan would not have known, perhaps, about what happened to less-fortunate mages, and she felt duty-bound to spread what she knew among others. 

The younger mage rubbed the vallaslin painted on her face and breathed in deeply as they looked at each other. "Dirthamen g'hila em," she murmured. "Vivienne, where did you hear this?"

Vivienne had anticipated this questioning- welcomed it, even. "It is common knowledge in the Orlesian court, my dear-" 

"The Orlesian court?" Lavellan's voice was loud and sharp, and Vivienne felt herself sighing internally even as she restrained a flinch. "Where chevaliers have free rein to kill the city elvhen, my lost people, with no repercussions? Where your Empress Celene massacred the elvhen alienage without a second thought, to preserve her reputation? Where Duke Gaspard published papers saying my people are closer to the rabbits than to humans, under the guise of science? Where the elvhen are less than people- you'd trust their opinions on the elvhen as anything other than bigotry?" 

Vivienne found herself taken aback at the sheer ferocity of Lavellan's words. Lavellan was a cheerful, bright woman, prone to pranking and to flirting- with Sera, with Lace Harding, with Cassandra, with Josephine and Leliana, with Vivienne herself. Her sly innuendos and clever jokes made Vivienne laugh in a way that she had not since Bastien. When dealing with those she disliked, she was subtle in her sarcasm to the point that the objects of her hate didn't know they were being made fun of. The only times she got angry it was at templars, at the oppression of mages. Vivienne had not thought she would ever experience it firsthand.

But she was Vivienne, Madame de Fer. She understood Lavellan's anger, but she would not be cowed by it. It was not as if her beliefs were not founded in fact. Vivienne thought of little Arinna, wondering to herself if she had been such a burden to Clan Sabrae that they would leave a four-year-old girl shivering and crying in the forest behind them.

"Be that as it may, I have known personally that this is a practice in truth. There was a girl in the Circle I grew up in. Her Clan had too many mages for her to ever be First or Second, so they left with only a pack on their back. She was only an infant. And I find myself loathe to say any apostate mage would be lucky to find a group of templars stumbling upon them, but without them, she would have died. 'Tis why I find myself wary of those who say the Dalish have it right in their ways, if they would find such actions could be considered just." 

Vivienne expected Lavellan either to deflate or flare up in anger, but instead it seemed that the woman crystallized- Lavellan did not look angry, simply neutral, except for the chilly silence descended upon them, and the clenching of her fists. It was more disconcerting than rage, Vivienne found, or sarcastic remarks.

"Have you heard any substantiated rumors other than that, then?" Lavellan asked, voice biting and quiet.

"Not as such..." Vivienne admitted, spreading her hands. "I only know of what I have been told, and that what I was told was not a lie."

Lavellan sighed, her red markings bright on her brow and along her cheekbones in the candlelight. She looked very tired all of a sudden, as if she were carrying a heavy burden- which Vivienne supposed she was. 

"So one Dalish clan speaking for all of us then?" she asked, tracing the wooden grain of the desk. 

Vivienne shook her head. "I only know that I might be more objective, as you were a First and would have perhaps been unable to see-"

Lavellan's laugh was sharp and edged, bearing a hint of hysteria in its upper notes. "As if we don't count our missing? If anything being First would have made me see it more, since Firsts help coordinate the Arlathvhens- the meetings of all Dalish clans together. Those happened once a decade, so I only was at one before the Conclave happened, but there are smaller ones more often- we come across one another, in passing. We speak of our troubles, of where is still safe to settle, and yes, of deaths. When Tamlen of Sabrae died to the Taint, we were told when we crossed paths again. I remember being afraid, cause I was only eleven, and I was afraid of darkspawn for a year after. They told us of how Ashara Mahariel was conscripted- I remember crying out of joy when I put it together that an _elf_ was one of the Heroes of Ferelden, and with Adrian Tabris and Miri Surana too. When Keeper Marethari of Sabrae was killed through her own fucking idiocy, we knew!

"We are a small, shrinking, _dying_ people, Vivienne. We gain nothing from the loss of our own. We treasure our magic- that's our history, the little pieces we have left. How could you tell me that you think I wouldn't notice a child going missing? Do you really think so fucking little of me, that I'm that monstrous, that I'd let a kid get _abandoned-_ "

Lavellan stopped herself, biting down hard on her lip, hard enough to draw blood. It took the elf a moment to collect herself, breathe in and out. Vivienne couldn't bear to interrupt her.

When she spoke, it was quiet again.

"This girl you spoke of, in Val Royeaux's Circle, what was her name?"

"...Arinna," Vivienne said, cautious. For a moment Lavellan had been wild in her anger, her teeth gnashing as she spoke and her hands tight, knuckles almost white against her dark skin on the table, barely restrained by trust and love and the knowledge that Vivienne truly cared for her too. She knew and had known women like that. They tended to be immeasurably dangerous.

"Arinna? Of Sabrae?" Lavellan asked, with clear shock.

"You knew her?" Vivienne answered, shocked herself. Arinna could not have met Lavellan after Vivienne had left- Arinna had died at 18, forced into a Harrowing she wasn't ready for, and she'd never seen life outside the Val Royeaux Circle beyond what favors Vivienne had been able to secure for her- a walk outside, a brief, supervised swim in a nearby lake. Anyone who'd known her had either been in the Val Royeaux Circle or a templar... so Lavellan must have known her before.

"She was a second cousin," Lavellan explained. "My mother was from Sabrae, but Lavellan needed a First, and she fell in love with my father there. We crossed paths when I was eight or so. At the time everyone was getting sick. Ari and I were on death's door. My mother knew an elf in the alienage nearby who knew a human doctor who said he'd help us. She trusted him..." 

Lavellan's voice broke. "I was eight. My magic came in early, did you know? I was three when it manifested. The first- hah, First- thing my mother did was teach me how to control it, above all else. I didn't take it seriously until I almost killed my favorite halla with a fireball a month later, but after that I studied till my mind ached. I never lost control like that again. That night, I was vomiting, running a fever, crying. My fingers didn't so much as spark."

She looked away, fighting tears. "Ari was four... she bloomed at three, like I did, you know? I guess it comes early in our family. But she never got to learned control. I was drugged to the Void and back but I remember trying to stop her when the flowers started withering spontaneously and shit. Must not have worked, because in the morning she was gone."

Lavellan fell silent, touching the ring on her necklace, fingerpads tracing the grooves that were inlaid with silver and encircled the ring with designs of running halla. "We always wondered if she was taken by the doctor and sold into the Orlesian slave trade- that still happens, just more underground- or if he saw her magic and called the templars. I guess I know now." 

Her eyes flickered to Vivienne and caught there, golden piercing through Vivienne's own. "I know not all Dalish clans are alike. But I've never heard of a clan which would ever toss out their mages like hot garbage. Magic is part of our treasured, scattered, histories- we wouldn't abandon it. Not for anything." 

She leaned forward, her eyes brightening again, so golden. "Look. Vivienne. You and I, we don't always get along, do we? About the way we deal with magic, and mages, and the rebellion- you know that, I know that. But I respect you, as a mage, and for the ways you managed to survive Orlesian court, and thrive there. Andruil knows I would've ended up telling the Empress to shove it a week in." 

They both crack smiles, remembering the way Lavellan gritted her teeth at the sight of the Empress of Orlais, in all her resplendence, and gave the most insincere smile Vivienne had ever seen, before Lavellan sobers.

"You're human, and Orlesian besides. That means you come to me with preconceptions about my people, right? And that's fine. Listen, Cassandra tried to tell me that I could 'include the Maker in my pantheon, if I had room for so many other gods' as if that made any sense at all, and she and I still get on fine. I'll tell you about my people, and my ways- but you have to be open to what I'll tell you if you want to talk about the Dalish with me. Alright?"

Vivienne couldn't help the way she smiled back, radiant. The idea of more knowledge about the Dalish- about the people who had so shaped this wonderful, brilliant, rebel of a woman- was appealing in itself, and she hadn't wanted to damage her friendship with Lavellan over her own misconceptions. 

"Of course, Lavellan. My thoughts on this were touched by my surroundings- I am glad you could provide your own perspective." Vivienne squeezed the dark hand in her own. "Thank you, darling."

And Lavellan's face lit with joy and relief, and Vivienne found herself smiling helplessly back. 

**Author's Note:**

> you can read this as inquisitor / vivienne if you like


End file.
